San Francisco
by Mcgde
Summary: Between getting fired, his baby getting vandalized, and his best friend giving him a giant stash of dildos, Dean guesses it's just his luck that he finds his dominant. Just his luck.


_So there goes my life_

_Passing by with every exit sign_

_It's been so long_

_Sometimes I wonder how I will stay strong_

_No sleep tonight_

_I'll keep on driving these dark highway lines_

_And as the moon fades_

_One more night gone, only twenty more days_

**Hello, I'm Delaware – City and Colour**

* * *

Dean was tired.

He was exhausted, and in need of his nightly caffeine fix. All he wanted to do was go to the office kitchen, grab some shitty store brand cup of black brew, then go back to his cubicle and finish his work that was sure to take the rest of the evening to even make it halfway through.

Yes, maybe he should have been paying more attention, because it wasn't like this was the first time. Maybe if he hadn't been there since six-thirty in the morning, and had to stay until at least midnight, he wouldn't have reacted so violently.

Maybe he wouldn't have socked his boss in the face.

But, just to clarify once again, he was exhausted. His feet were dragging on the cheap multi-colored carpet, his left eye was twitching, and he might have been drooling. Honestly, Dean wasn't sure _why _his boss had thought he seemed so appealing at that moment to begin with. Even so, he felt when a hand dropped firmly on his ass and have a hearty squeeze, and his first instinct was to deliver a swift punch to the man's jaw.

Now where was he? In said employer's office, watching him nurse and already swollen jaw and split lip, feeling equal parts satisfied and horrified.

"Mr. Zachariah-"

Dean cut himself off, when the small man held up his hand in a 'stop' motion. Dread was slowly filling his stomach, as his boss pulled out his chair to take a seat. The man still held the ice pack to his face, but his eyes were steely with anger, and something that looked like smugness.

"Dean, Dean, Dean," his voice was nasally, and Dean would be lying if he said it didn't give him the creeps every time he heard it. "I just don't know what to say."

"Sir, I-"

Dean was cut off again. "I hate to be the one to tell you this," Zachariah's smirk was cruel, and Dean knew what was coming. "But we just can't afford to keep such unruly members on staff here."

The dread was now a lead ball in his stomach. "Mr. Zachariah, I can't apologize enough for what I did," Dean had to force the words through nearly gritted teeth. "But are you sure you need to go to such extreme measures?"

"Oh Dean," He certainly did not flinch as the man leaned in closer, as if he was right in front of him, when he was really safely tucked behind his desk. "I'm absolutely _positive_," He sat back in his chair, and Dean relaxed again. "I think you'll understand that we can't _promote _this kind of behavior from our employees."

"But sir, if you'll just consider-"

"I'm afraid there's nothing to consider, Mr. Winchester," His tone was filled with amusement, even if it was toned down by the purple bruising on his cheek.

"But-"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave now, Dean."

"Listen here, you son of a-"

Zachariah pressed a button on his desk. "Security, please come and escort Dean Winchester from my office, if you would be so kind."

Take it from someone with recent experience; being thrown on your ass on the concrete can really give you a sore back the next day.

* * *

It's lucky that Dean was never one for keeping mementos, excluding the necklace he kept around his neck at all times.

It's this he was thinking, as he packed the last of his belongings into a suitcase, which wasn't even filled all the way while still holding everything he owned inside it.

He couldn't say it was any form of bittersweet, leaving the ugly old place. God knew there were rats running through the walls and the water tasted like someone had melted down a pound of pennies and mixed them in. But he would say this; he'd miss the guy in the apartment above his that always had a constant stream of Led Zeppelin playing.

Dean flipped up the handle of the case, leaving the apartment and shutting the door firmly behind him. He bypassed the elevator, knowing he had more chance of death by riding that than making it downstairs. His suitcase thumped down each step with an echoing sound, and he winced every time it slipped too far and his him in the back of his ankle.

He pushed his way out of the side door, and immediately went to the payphone on the side of the street. He was careful to keep the mouthpiece a good few inches from his face as he punched in a number he knew by heart. The ringing went on for several moments, and Dean's stomach clenched nervously; he was just about to hang up and try another number, when the line was picked up and a happy voice sounded through the speaker.

"Hello, this is Loki enterprises and you're speaking to Stephanie. How can I help you today?"

Dean sighed in relief. "Hey, this is Dean Winchester, I'm calling for Gabriel Milton," He paused for a few moments, chewing his lip. "It's very important that I talk to him."

"Hmm, I'm sorry sir, but Mr. Milton has no scheduled phone appointments with anyone of the name Winchester," Her voice was still perky and it that rubbed Dean in the completely wrong way. "If you wanted, I could schedule you an appointment for next week at 3:00 on Tuesday, but you're not in the list for today."

Dean exhaled through his nose, aggravated. "If you could just tell him right now that Dean is on the line, I'm sure he'd understand that I don't have an appointment."

"I'm sorry sir," Her voice was more annoyed now. "But only people with scheduled appointments are allowed to talk to Mr. Milton."

"Just tell him-"

"Mr. Winchester, you're just going to have to-" She was cut off when Dean heard a noise in the background, which at first just sounded like things being moved around, but was then what he made out as another voice speaking.

"Stephanie…. is that?"

"… One… said they're…. Winchester…"

"Oh!" The voice in the background was clear now. "Transfer the line to my office."

"But Mr. Milton-"

"Thanks, Steph."

There was more fumbling noises and then Stephanie's voice was back. "Please hold a moment, Mr. Winchester," The words sounded sour, she obviously being irked at letting him have his way. "Your call is being transferred to Mr. Milton."

Dean sighed in relief. There was a moment of elevator music, which he assumed was what played while he waited for the line to be picked up, but then it ended and a familiar voice replaced it.

"Deano! How have you been, buddy?"

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey, Gabe," He chuckled a little under his breath. "I've been, ugh, not so good actually."

"What's wrong? Libido problems getting you down already? 'Cause I know a doc who-"

"No!" Dean was sure his face was bright read, and he was happy there was no one else around to hear what Gabe was saying. "It's nothing like that, I just…" He sucked in a breath through his teeth and then released it, deflating in on himself. "I kind of just got evicted from my apartment."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a while, and Dean was afraid that maybe Gabe had hung up, when he started talking again. "Hm, I'm sorry to hear that," There was the crinkling sound of some kind of wrapper being opened. "What can I do to help?"

"Well," He was getting nervous now, because he knew that even if he and Gabe were good friends, best friends for a time even, what he was about to ask might be a little much. "I know you said you had that empty apartment in San Fran, and I was wondering if I could stay there for awhile, just until I found a new job," There was more silence, and Dean felt horrible now for even asking. "I mean, I'd pay you rent and everything! I just don't think I can find a apartment right now, and-"

"Hey, slow down there compadre," The words were muffled, and Dean realized that Gabe was eating. "Of course you can stay there, I was just checking to see if I had any job openings you could take while you wait to find a new one."

Gabe's tone was amused, and Dean realized that he had been pretty close to raving a moment ago. His previously tensed shoulders relaxed infinitesimally when he heard his friend say that though. "Gabe, you have no idea how much that means to me. I swear I'll leave as soon as I find my own place, and I'll keep it clean and everything. You won't even-"

"Yeah, yeah Deano, I got it. You just owe me a drink once you get down here, got it?"

Dean smirked. "Yeah, man. All clear."

* * *

The ride to San Francisco went as uneventfully as any twenty-three hour car ride could be expected. Dean mostly blasted Zep and some Kansas while stopping at 3 different places that looked good to stock up on burgers and a few candy bars.

Once he hit the city, Dean wished he had thought to bring his gun with him. To get to Gabe's apartment, he had to drive through downtown, and he was hyper-aware of every shady looking person that seemed to stare at his baby with a leer on his or her face. At one point, he swore he saw a group of people whispering to each other and pointing towards him, but he didn't wait to find out what they were planning.

All in all, it could have been worse. Dean pulled into the parking garage, taking his time to find a good space to leave his car. There was an empty one situated close to the entrance, but what in between two monstrous looking trucks that Dean was taking no chance parking his baby by.

He eventually found the perfect one, away from most other cars, but not in such a deserted spot that people would get the idea to break into it. He had to walk a good five minutes to get to the actual apartment building, but it was worth it.

Dean held his breath as he walked past the doorman, getting a nod in his direction. The slick looking floors and clean looking lobby-person was completely out of his element, having been more used to stained carpets and drunks passed out in the hallway more that anything. He almost groaned out loud when the elevator arrived, and there was actually a person in there, waiting to press the button for him.

He wasn't surprised when he said the name Milton, and the man pressed the button to the highest floor. If Gabriel had gotten anything but the best, then Dean would have been flummoxed.

The ride up was silent, and Dean saw the man check out his ass when he exited the elevator, but then disappear when he caught sight of his scowl. There was only one door in the long hallway, and dean almost laughed at the sight of a small plant in a pot beside it.

He retrieved the key from under the pot, as instructed by Gabriel beforehand, and soon enough was walking through the door. The first room that came into his point of view was the kitchen, and seeing it, his breath caught in his throat.

It was huge. The cabinets, all a dark and shiny oak, spread throughout the entire length of the kitchen walls and went all the way to the ceiling. All the appliances, from the fridge to the oven, were stainless steel, and the countertops, including the giant island in the middle of the room, were smooth black granite.

Dean was salivating.

He wanted to simply run his hands over everything. He thought distantly, that whoever had renovated the kitchen must have hadn't had any financial budget to worry about. The floors were a shining hardwood that was finished with a gloss, and dean made sure to take off his shoes before he ventured further inside.

As much as he wanted to, Dean didn't linger in the kitchen for long. He quickly bypassed the fridge, which after a quick check was found to be fully stocked with pretty much everything, and pushed through a swinging door to what he thought must be the living room.

This room wasn't any less luxurious than the kitchen. On the far wall in front of him, sat a huge HD television, completely pimped out with and Xbox, PlayStation 3, Wii, and some of his personal favorites, which included a Game Cube and Nintendo 64 with stacks of games beside them.

In front of the TV sat a large fluffy white couch and to the right a large loveseat, with a glass coffee table situated in front of them. The floor was a thick gray carpet that felt soft on Dean's feet even through his socks. To the left of the TV, there was two double doors that led to what appeared to be a large balcony, that Dean had every intention of steering clear of.

Passing through the room and promising himself he would check out the games as soon as he had toured the rest of the place, Dean made his way into a door on the opposite side of the room than the TV.

He discovered where it lead pretty quickly, and his mouth dropped open, no words coming to mind.

It was a huge room, soft white carpet covering the entire floor. In the middle there was an inappropriately large bed, being the size of two and a half kings at the least, and filled to the brim with the fluffiest looking pillows Dean had yet to see.

To the right of the bed was a large dresser, opened to reveal a variety of suits and robes hung up. In front of the bed was another television, though not as big as the one in the living room. There was a stacker filled with alphabetically organized movies, and a microwave with at least 8 boxes of instant popcorn beside it.

Exploring even further into the depths of luxury, Dean actually squeaked when he opened a drawer see the largest assortment of dildos and lube and other sexual toys he could imagine. Right at the top of the mound though, was a note that had a clear '_Have Fun! :)' _written on it. He slammed it shut again with a scowl on his face. "Fuckin' ass."

After he'd laid down on the bed for a test run, Dean had almost forgotten that there was more of the apartment to discover. The giant comforter swallowed him without even having to be underneath it, and the room was the perfect temperature for simply dozing mindlessly.

The thing that got him up again was the ringing of his phone. He grumbled as he realized that he had left it on the counter in the kitchen.

He padded his way back through the living room, taking another moment to admire the TV, and was only kept from turning on the GameCube when his phone gave another impatient shrill.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Deano!"

Dean was caught between scowling and smiling at Gabriel's voice on the other end of the line. He settled for letting out a huff. "Hey, Gabe."

"So," He could tell Gabriel was trying to sound nonchalant, but was failing miserably. "Did you see the present I left?" Dean could practically hear the suppressed laughter, and it only made his neutral face transform into a frown once more.

"Yeah, I got it, you ass-monkey."

Gabriel practically exploded at that, the breathless wheezing coming through the line so Dean could hear it crystal clear. It took him a few minutes to calm down, and when he finally did start to speak again, Gabe's voice was thick with amusement. "Well, I hope you'll be putting it to good use in the future," Before Dean could retort, he cut him off again. "But I was just calling to check up, so I got ta go. I'll see you soon, Deano, for that drink you promised me."

He was gone before Dean even had a chance to try and retaliate.

With an exasperated sigh, Dean walked into the living room and flopped down on the couch, almost moaning with how soft it was. If nothing else, he could at least relax here without having to worry about any interruptions.

As he continued to doze, his thoughts turned to the job interviews he had set up for the next week. He had at least one every day, with the exception of two next Tuesday, and three on Friday. The idea of having to put on a pleasant façade for strangers was daunting and about the last thing he wanted to do, but he wanted to get back on his feet as soon as possible.

He groaned, pushing his face into one of the cushions and didn't think about it anymore.

* * *

_Notes: _Don't know if I want to wait until I write the rest to post it, or if I should just posted as I finish each chapter. Give me your opinion, please! Remember to review, and I'll probably end up updating quicker. It gives me motivation!

-Shay


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